Domina
by t22felton
Summary: Darkness consumed every inch of her burning soul, and it felt absolutely brilliant. - Extremely Dark Tomione. Warnings Inside.
1. WARNING

This is my first ever Tomione story, I love Tom Riddle, he's a stunner, and Hermione is absolutely gorgeous, and insanely intelligent, so why not make a story of my own? I had a dream about this specific storyline; hopefully it will work as planned, and make enough sense.

 **WARNINGS:** Extremely dark fic, I love the thought of a dark Hermione and an equally dark Tom. I don't want to think of it as Hermione being a scared little girl who falls in love with Tom and tries to save his soul, I am all about girl power, and Hermione Granger is the poster woman for girl power. If you are looking for a Light Hermione, whose best friends are Harry Potter and Ron Weasley you are in a very wrong place.

Dark Hermione and Tom Riddle Jr. excessive violence, sexual themes, a bit controversial and by a bit, I mean a lot. Time travel obviously, but not the type you've seen where she goes from the future to the past, Hermione is herself, but not herself if you understand what I mean. Also, she's a bit insane, but in the most brilliant way, if any of these things bother you, please don't read this, and find another story more suitable to your needs. Also this is my first fic ever, for Harry Potter, and I really hope you enjoy it.

As for the title, I chose 'Domina' because it translates to 'The Lady' and you will understand kind of why I chose to do it like that… hope you like it!

Consider yourself warned.

I do not own any of the characters, Harry Potter is (obviously) NOT mine, this idea however is mine; they are all under the creation of J.K. Rowling.


	2. One

This is my first ever Tomione story, I love Tom Riddle, he's a stunner, and Hermione is absolutely gorgeous, and insanely intelligent, so why not make a story of my own? I had a dream about this specific storyline; hopefully it will work as planned, and make enough sense.

As for the title, I chose 'Domina' because it translates to 'The Lady' and you will understand kind of why I chose to do it like that… hope you like it!

I do not own any of the characters; they are all under the creation of J.K. Rowling.

Chapter 1:

Hermione Granger watched as the clock ticked, her leg frantically bobbing up and down with clear frustration.

Her hands were clasped together to give off the image of innocence, however her dark eyes glittered with mischief.

Headmaster Armando Dippet was speaking enthusiastically, his hands moving up and down, and his beard swishing against his dark purple robes.

Hermione urged herself to remain calm, her magic trying to break against the boundaries that she's tried so hard to build over the past six years she'd spent in hiding.

She tried her best to not interrupt the old buffoon, biting her lip with vigor and tasting the familiar metallic liquid, her lip already burning from the little cut she caused.

"Oh Miss Granger, we are so very excited to have you here! A new teacher, and such a young one as well! But your experience is unprecedented, I must say. Very impressive, very, very impressive indeed!" he cheerfully clapped his hands together and began rambling once more about all the teachers she already knew about, but she feigned interest and kept her hands clasped together on her lap, her dark robes reaching the ground, and her black dress hidden underneath, along with her wand, which she tried her best to not reach for and _Stupefy_ the blubbering idiot of a headmaster.

Although, she must say, he was much better than the old coot, Albus Dumbledore. The meddling old fool, continuously trying to search for her when she insisted that she never wanted to be found. She burned with fury at the mention of his name within her thoughts. She despised him, and everything he stood for.

She despised all of them.

What a waste of magic, honestly, she did not become what she is to watching these twats take over the magical world and turn it into a right mess.

Lost in her thoughts, she almost didn't notice that Headmaster Dippet had stopped his frantic hand gestures and was now staring at her with so much fascination that she felt like throwing up.

She wanted to leave already, she'd spent twenty minutes listening to him, and nodding when she felt it was right, and leaning closer as if listening to him with curiosity about whatever he had to say.

Her documents that lay on his desk were constructed perfectly by her own hand. Getting all that false information was hard, but she was able to finally have it all completed just in time.

Headmaster Dippet was almost through with his mindless chatter, and soon she found herself following him down a long hallway, students running back and forth, some ignoring the young woman following their headmaster, a woman who looked no older than the seventh years, a woman who's chestnut curls cascaded down her back, her clothing simple yet accentuating every curve, her eyes dark and ambiguous, she was a mystery. Others however, took much more notice than she would feel comfortable with.

Many of them were the older students, boys shoving at each other's shoulders as the beautiful witch passed by them, an air of power circulating around her, almost electrifying, her magic almost making the hairs on their arm stand up, but she simply ignored their eyes, a small smirk forming its way on her lips, but she hid it quickly.

The headmaster stopped in front of a door that led into a rather large classroom, it was two levels, a stairway leading up to another room in which she presumed her office was held in, and the spacious area held desks and different artifacts, none of them dark of course, how ironic, that the dark arts prohibited the use of dark magic.

She wanted to roll her eyes at the insolent fools for teaching these children simple spells, no wonder the students here were such ignorant little twats.

She thanked the headmaster and he left the witch, allowing her to explore her new classroom.

Her hands touched the desk that was placed at the front of the room, this place had too much light in it, and so she whipped her wand out and held it towards the curtains, watching them snap shut and swallowing her into a darkness that was so very pleasant.

She climbed up the steps that lead to her little office, in which she would keep her little secrets, it will be guarded properly, she thought to her self. Any idiot who approaches the door will be lit up with flames before they could apologize for trying to evade her privacy. She wanted to smile at the sounds of horrified screams as soon as they recognize the power she truly holds, a filthy little mudblood with powers that would put Salazar Slytherin and Albus Dumbledore to shame.

They doubt her but they will no longer see the young and innocent Hermione Granger, she has changed, she has seen things that have corrupted her in the most beautiful way. Oh how beautiful it is to have seen the world, and witness such great power, and to bask in that power and become an undefeatable witch.

The welcoming feast was in an hour and she had much to do, she had to get ready, and go over that list of teachers once more before she was surrounded by fools once again, and force herself to participate in mindless conversation.

She slowly made her way out of her little office, and placed a little charm she knew on the doorknob, making sure cast a spell that would only allow her to enter the room, and to enforce punishment on anyone who dared even breath near this door, aside from her of course.

Quickly making her way down the steps, her dress swept against her ankles, the black material a nice silk that complimented her almost caramel-like skin tone.

She decided that getting ready would only make her late, and she was never late, everyone was simply too early.

She looked over the list of teachers, each one sounding much more boring than the other, old bats, the lot of them. She huffed, none of them were as young as she, and she would suffer alone, no one to drink with, no one to enjoy the things she loved to do, as a young woman who had too much life within her, she would have to settle with people she already disliked.

Horace Slughorn, potions. She grunted, she'd seen him once, at a bar in central London, he was chatting up the Muggle bartender, drink in hand and he his nasally voice filling her ears in the most excruciating way, she'd heard of him, and his ability to kiss any arse that had a smidge of power.

Professor Merrythought, the Charms teacher, much too old of course, she won't be much of a problem, no one was really much of a problem, but she had to watch out for those with a perceptive eye.

She read through the long list once more, before shoving it into her suitcase, and locking that with a similar charm she placed on her office door, before making her way to the Great Hall, where she could already here the enthusiastic chatter of students, once she made her way through the door, her hands folded into one another at her front, her walk smooth and her back straight.

She walked towards where all the professors were sitting, her eyes trying not to roam to the Slytherin table, where she knew he sat, but she could feel eyes on her, each pair burning a hole into her back, trying to understand why a witch so young wasn't dressed in a Hogwarts uniform and seated amongst them but was instead grabbing a seat next to their headmaster and Professor Slughorn.

She greated Horace with a kind smile, of course a fabricated one, and the man soon began to chat away, discussing things she could care less about, but she nodded her head and acted as if she gave a single fuck, and soon Headmaster Dippet stood, and made his way to a podium not too far from their table, speaking to the students, informing the first years of all the dangers they best stay away from, and wishing them all a good year, the students cheered of course, finding happiness in being back home with their friends, and soon food appeared in front of them and the feast began.

Hermione sipped on her pumpkin juice, and could feel eyes on her coming directly from the Slytherin table, she didn't have to look twice to see that a young looking Voldemort seated, eyes boring into her own, his little minions leaning forward and whispering to one another, some laughing and enjoying their meal.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, what a splendid little creature you are, she thought to herself, remembering the serpent-like man she'd seen in the future, but the Tom Riddle in 1944 was much more beautiful, so stunning, his hair swept in a small curl from his forehead, and his eyes dark, the color almost undecipherable, she wanted to look away, but she continued to analyze the young man, trying to understand him a bit before approaching him later on.

If this was to work, she had to make sure that young Mr. Riddle new his place, and not categorize her as yet another teacher who was in love with him, as Horace so clearly was.

She would not be a victim anymore, her eyes burned with something, something dark and powerful, and she continued to sip on her pumpkin juice, turning her eyes away to continue conversing with both Horace and Armando, finding herself bored once again, but she remained silent. Nodding and smiling when necessary, and awaiting for the night to be over, he first class was tomorrow, she will leave a lovely first impression, oh it will all be so splendid.


	3. Two

**Here's chapter 2, hope you enjoy** **wanted to introduce some characters in this chapter that will play a somewhat important role in the future of this story. Thank you for your kind reviews, I love to know that there are many of you that enjoy dark Hermione/Tomione just as much as I do.**

 **And do not worry my loves, there will be more Hermione and Tom one on one time, patience is key.**

 **Chapter 2:**

Hermione awoke slowly, her hands quickly reaching for her wand out of pure instinct.

She lay in bed for a few minutes before she finally got up, and began to dress, going through a mental checklist, making sure she had everything she needed for her first class today, she will not disappoint, nor will she be looked down upon because of her muggleborn heritage.

Making sure her wand was tucked neatly underneath her dark robes, and her books stuffed into her bag that had an extension-charm within it, allowing her to fit all her necessities within the tiny purse.

Her hair was in tame curls, for once, and she found herself walking out of her bedroom, locking it behind her, and making her way into the crowded hallways, students blocking her path, the seventh years were leaning back against the wall as they watched the first and second years struggle to get their classes, their tiny bodies trying to weave through the older students, she wanted to roll her eyes as she caught sight of a familiar yet unfamiliar head of blonde hair.

Septimus Malfoy, as she'd come to find out when she decided to apply for the position, she made sure that every student in the seventh and sixth year was engraved in her mind, and locked away in her well-organized library of thoughts.

Draco shared such similar features with his grandfather, the same hollowed cheeks, pale face, pointed nose, such aristocratic features, each part of his face held a sharp edge, as if he could cut through any hand that dared to touch the elder ferret.

By the way he sent a jelly-legs jinx to one of the Gryffindor first years that tried to run past him, and what looked to be his two goons, surprisingly it wasn't a Goyle or Crabbe, but rather he was flanked by what seemed to be Amycus Carrow Sr. and Evan Rosier, the two boys laughing alongside Septimus as he attempted to cast yet another spell on an ignorant little first year.

These little children were such simple minded beings, so stupid, so innocent, it made her sick to think that such creatures still existed in such a world where Tom Riddle has free reign, a boy who has already, based on what she's studied about this specific timeline, began gathering all his loyal little Death Eaters. Rosier and Carrow were definitely amongst the group, and she didn't even bother questioning Malfoy, as she let her hand raise slightly and twist to the side just an inch, and Malfoy's wand flew into her waiting hand.

His storm-like eyes snapped towards her, and his eyes widened just slightly. Just being the key word, before he quickly covered it up with a passive look on his face, feigning innocence as if she hadn't just witnessed the fool jinx any child that was unlucky enough to come into his line of vision.

Carrow Sr. and Rosier also seemed to be shocked at the rather quick and stealthy intrusion Professor Granger had placed on their little fun game.

Malfoy looked at his goons, or Riddle's goons, whatever they were, they were all idiots.

She gave the boys a small little smirk, and held the wand up, dangling it only slightly between Malfoy's eyes, as if chastising him, and trying to lure him in all at once, and with her dark eyes staring into his, trying to probe his mind with as much force as she could, she only could smidges of memories, some including Riddle, but nothing that could help her move to her next step.

Being the half-wit that he was, Malfoy hadn't realized that she was using Legilimens on him, but he was a trained Occulumens and his mind shut her out by instinct, she gave him another smirk and beckoned him with her other hand, her finger gesturing towards the three teenaged boys, and without thinking they moved towards her, being drawn into this darkness that surrounded her, a darkness they didn't experience aside from being beside Tom, and what an electric current it was, it licked at their skin as they drew closer, and it was as if they drinking up every inch of that power, losing all control and becoming almost drunk in Hermione Granger, and her hard yet soft features, those eyes that were a dark caramel, but with flecks of gold that showed that there was some light within her, but only barely.

"Professor" Malfoy mumbled, his voice almost a slur as he leaned in towards her, her hand still gripping his wand, and Rosier and Carrow also seemed to lean in closer.

"I assume you have somewhere to be , and torturing the first years isn't it." She gave him an antagonizing smile, and felt his legs lose a bit of balance as he almost knocked into her, but she stepped back only slightly, and he almost lost his balance before he realized how ridiculous he looked, and straightened himself instantly.

"Yes professor, we have Defense against the Dark Arts with you actually." He gave her his infamous Malfoy smirk, a playful gleam in his eyes and almost immediately her eyes darkened, what a fool, to think she was a silly little girl he could play with, she stuck his wand into the side of his neck and leaned in only slightly.

"Well, we best get moving then. Wouldn't want to be late on your first day back, I know that your professor would very displeased." And she dropped his wand onto the ground, turning to walk away and heard a scuffle of shoes as he quickly reached for his wand, and the three boys followed behind her as she entered her classroom.

She was instantly greeted by chaos, students sitting on the desks rather than on their chairs, boys and girls too close for her liking, girls giggling and boys casting spell after spell. She saw red, and the door slammed shut behind her, the three boys behind her flinched as they sensed the electricity that surrounded her spread around the class, as everyone grew silent, eyes wide as if they were caught doing something bad, and oh how bad they were. Punishment was necessary, she will not be treated as Muggle-born, or a mudblood, she will be Professor Granger, a teacher, someone they will respect, that they will at times fear if they step out of line.

She was only five minutes late, how was it possible that this could happen in five minutes. Teenagers, her mind hissed, anger resurfacing behind her once light brown eyes, turning them almost pitch black as she took her wand out and pointed it at one boy who was still seated on the desk, he visibly gulped as she twisted her arm to the side, and he was instantly pushed of the desk and onto a chair, and almost instantly, as if it never even happened, the chair flew across the room, with the boy still seated in it, and she heard the crack of the chair against the wall as he fell to the floor, scrambling to his feet instantly and making his way back to the desk, standing behind it, head bent down, not daring to look into the angered witches eyes.

She pointed her wand at the broken chair and quickly brought it back to its previous fixed form, before levitating it back into its place behind the boy, forcing him to sit in it.

He flinched when the chair touched the back of his legs, but he slowly sat, his head still facing the table.

She turned to look at Malfoy and his little friends and they took walked rather quickly, searching for any seat.

She quickly turned to the board, and began writing, almost instantly she heard the sound of rustling as the students pulled out their notebooks, and quills, writing down whatever she wrote as she began her lesson.

"My name is Hermione Granger, your new Defense professor. There are a few rules I would like to mention, as today's class did not begin as I wished it to." She began, her back still to them as she placed her hand on the desk, tracing her fingers against the wood, dancing across the desk and gripping a dragon skull in her hand, turning towards the students now.

"Respect is in order. I will not tolerate any despicable behavior from any of you. I expect you all to take notes whenever I speak, including now, so do make sure that your quills are always ready." She twisted the skull in her hands.

"If there is any student who wishes to disrespect me in my own classroom, there will be consequences, and seeing as you are all big boys and girls, the consequences will be far from friendly" she smiled, the dragon skull cracking underneath her iron grip, pieces of it falling to the floor.

Wiping her hands, she grabbed her wand and summoned a piece of parchment from across the room, and grabbed a quill, looking around the room and writing names down.

Each name sounding more familiar then the next.

Helena Brown, she almost rolled her eyes, Lavender's grandmother looked exactly like the insolent girl she knew back in her time, same stupid look on that stupid face of hers.

Augusta Longbottom, she turned her eyes to stare at Neville's grandmother, the young woman sat in front of her had the same narrowed eyes that she knew the older version of herself still claimed.

As she continued to write names down, she began to pair each student based on what she assumed was their skill, although she did wish to pair the Brown girl with Mr. Riddle, just so he could get a hex in, her dislike towards Lavender being channeled into what looked to be her twin.

"I have put you in pairs, and I want each of you to duel. I want to test your abilities before going forward, I will not accept slackers in my classroom, if you are simply an idiot I would like to know before I waste my time trying to teach you something you wouldn't even begin to comprehend with a mind as small as yours" she heard some girls scoff around the room, and she wanted to blast them each with a spell that would make them wish they didn't make a single sound.

She drew her wand out once more and all the desks that were once there disappeared, leaving the students standing, and looking around.

She made eye contact with a certain pair of dark eyes, and he gave her a polite small, which she blatantly ignored before she began calling out names.

"And finally, Tom Riddle," she called out, and the boy twisted to stare at her, his handsome features almost shocking her. Almost.

"You are with Ms. Longbottom, please make sure that none of you permanently hurt one another, however I don't expect any of you to play fair. You may begin, and remember I will be watching."

And that's all it took before different colors of a different spell fired around the room, but she kept a close eye on Riddle, her eyes studying his dueling skills.

He seemed more of an offense rather than defense, but that wasn't a shock. The dark lord never thought to learn to defend himself as properly as he learned to inflict pain on others.

She watched as Augusta struggled to deflect spell after spell that Tom threw her way, until she finally surrendered and the boy smiled arrogantly, turning immediately to find his professor staring at him, her dark eyes calculating, and he gave her his best 'good boy' smile, which she once again ignored and moved to look around at the other duels.

She could, however, feel the same dark eyes of the not so innocent boy follow her around the room, and she was very aware of the ring that lay on his finger, the dark power that illuminated from it almost suffocating that she wondered how no one else noticed that this boy was far from innocent, that he was darkness itself.

She avoided him today; she will not speak to him until it is the right time. But everything was according to plan, yes; she'd waited for this for too long for something to go wrong.

Brightest witch of her age, they called her, and they were right. So bright that it blackened her soul.


	4. Three

**I apologize for the delay, I realized that I truly do love this story, and I get so upset when an author who is writing a story I begin to like, and am intrigued by, suddenly stops updating.**

 **Here's part 3 of the** _ **Domina**_ **story, hope you enjoy. First proper Tomione encounter in this chapter.**

 **Chapter 3:**

This was her third class and Hermione had witnessed many students head to the infirmary for different injuries inflicted by her faster and better students.

One of those being Tom Riddle.

She despised the boy, who constantly tried to grab her attention but seemed to grow more aggravated with her lack of acknowledgment that she knew he was well familiar with from his other professors, like Slughorn, the blithering idiot.

"Stop." Her voice rang throughout the classroom, and every single student froze in their spots, as she approached them, her voice cold, and firm. This was something they'd grown accustom to since her first lesson, the fear she instilled within them had stuck with them since, and they did not dare anger Professor Granger.

"Well done everyone, although I'd like to see more power behind the shields you put up, it is never smart to assume that your opponent has been defeated, with magic, anything is possible." She began, roaming the classroom, her wand held in between her fingers, twisting it, and feeling the familiar static course through her veins and she almost closed her eyes, basking in the darkness that surrounded her, but she carried on.

"This will be the last lesson in which we will do practical activities, at least for the next few weeks, there are many spells I'd like to teach you, and then test you on. For now, I'd like you all to do some research on a spell you might find sounds very familiar, the _Patronus_ charm. It is important that you learn this soon, darkness is always lurking in the corner, and we must always be well prepared. I would like two feet of parchment on whatever research you find. Goodluck, and do not disappoint me. Class dismissed."

And she made her way to her desk that sat at the front of the classroom, taking a seat and grabbing one of her many books that were usually kept hidden under charms that disguised them to resemble the defense book that the seventh years used, but is instead a book of dark magic, one that she could only decipher, and she pulled out a piece of parchment, grabbing a quill and began scribbling down some notes, not noticing the looming shadow that stood before the table, blocking the light and making it harder for her to take notes.

Looking up, she almost grimaced at the sight of Riddle, who stood there, waiting for her to notice him. What did the little fucker want now?

Putting her quill done, and shutting the book, she folded her hands and placed them on the table, raising an eyebrow, as if expectant and waiting for him to say something, unless he was just here to stare at her.

"Uh…" he stumbled with his words, and she was truly shocked. All she heard from the other teachers and the headmaster himself was: how brilliant Mr. Riddle was, and how responsible and kind he was. He seemed to be inept at the moment, and she couldn't exactly see the brilliance so she remained quiet, and watched him writhe underneath her scrutinizing gaze, and she basked in his little weaknesses.

"Professor, I had a question about our next lesson, and about the course in general. If you don't mind me asking, of course." Ah, the boy has finally caught his tongue, and he even graced her with a charming smile, one she completely ignored and instead lifted her hand to rub at her temples, closing her eyes and picturing the many different hexes she could use on him, specifically the ones that inflicted excruciating pain.

"And what would you like to know about the course, Mr. Riddle?" she asked, her tone bored, as if she were already done with whatever he wanted to know, and he frowned slightly, but hid it quickly. Professors loved him, and yet this one didn't. Professor Sapiens always enjoyed his company, always praised him, that was what he was used to, not this, this ignorance! It angered him, but he calmed himself down, working his 'magic' on the witch sitting before him, who did not look a day over twenty.

"Well, I wanted to know if you were planning on teaching us anything about dark magic, such as the Unforgivables?" and he folded his hands behind his back, waiting for her answer.

"Mr. Riddle, I would appreciate it if you didn't nose your way into my lesson plans. However, if you would like to know, I do plan on dedicating a lesson on the Unforgivables, and would be more than happy to use you as an example for the rest of the class, seeing as you seem to be so excited about it." And the witch dared smirk at him, her eyes growing darker, and he felt it then, the magic that radiated from her being, and licked at his own magical aura and he almost shivered.

It was glorious, and he almost threw himself at her, but self-control was his expertise and so he only nodded, forcing a smile onto his face.

"I would like nothing more than to assist you Professor." And he bowed, he fucking _bowed._ He was mocking her, and she almost grabbed her want but she only narrowed her eyes at him.

"Are we done here? I have work I need to return to, and I am aware that you have a rather important assignment due tomorrow, wouldn't want to anger any of your professors Mr. Riddle, might just make them question your brilliance." And she returned to her work, feeling him stand there for one more moment, mouth open and slightly shocked at the nerve of her, as if he was not used to this tone being used on him by any of his teachers.

How dare she?

How dare he?

Eventually the annoyance of a boy left, and she continued scribbling notes until it was time for supper, and she closed the book, taking it up to her office and locking it inside one of her many drawers, before locking the door, adding different charms that would impose horrifying pain to anyone who dares to intrude.

Smiling to herself, she made her way to the Great Hall, analyzing the confrontation she had with Tom today, and when she looked at him, she wondered how he'd managed to turn his beautiful face, something that could not be denied, the boy was gorgeous, into something that looked more serpentine, more monstrous.

I bet he would be horrified to see what the dark magic did to him eventually, and if he continued making those horcruxes he would eventually find himself losing the charming face that fooled people for so many years, and instead find it replaced by something that put fear in the heart of many, but also made people defy him, and everything he stood for.

And as she found her seat next to Slughorn, and listened to him ramble on and one about his little club of extraordinary students, she thought to herself, of when insanity truly hit Tom Riddle, and when did he lose the intelligence, that she knew would've made him a greater and more powerful leader, one that she would make sure would do nothing to muggle-borns such as herself.

She thought of these things, and made sure to keep an even closer eye on him, and the rest of his little group.


	5. Four

**I have not even looked at this story in so long, but I missed it and felt like I could at least upload another chapter and see how it goes. Tomione is one of my ultimate favorite ships, so I apologize for not really being consistent, whatsoever with this story.**

 **Here is Chapter 4! Forgive me, but I hope this year late upload is worth it**

 **Chapter 4:**

Hermione decided that her next lesson she would combine two things, the Patronus charm and the use of a Boggart. She remembered quite vividly her Boggart when she was both young and naïve, it was failure. Somehow, this fear never left, but she was less fearful of failing an exam now, and more afraid of herself.

Her body was humming with dark magic as she walked down the hallways, her black robes perfectly fitted and bellowing behind her. She felt like Severus Snape, except without the greasy hair, the hooked nose and the absolutely horrifying attitude.

She was hoping her students were already seated, but was secretly wishing that a certain Slytherin would be late so she could hex his bullocks off, and swing them in front of the Great Hall. The bigoted fucker.

Her heels were clicking against the ground, creating an echo to her ears regardless of the noise that surrounded her from both younger and older students trying to get to class on time, shoving one another and tripping over their own feet as they made way for the dangerously stunning Professor Granger.

Walking into her classroom, she heard light chatter which quickly ceased as soon as she became visible to the 6th year Slytherin's and Ravenclaws.

"Good Afternoon, today we will be focusing on two things. One is the Patronus charm, which to me is quite a bore, however it is a requirement for young men and women like you to know how to perform this complex charm, with Grindlewald prancing around Europe. However, I will also be incorporating into this lesson a Boggart. Now can anyone of you tell me what a Boggart is?" she began, and was cut off by an arrogant voice that made her blood boil, and her eyes narrow darkly.

"A Boggart is…" Tom Riddle began, his voice both informative and smug, as if he was the only fucker in this class that knew whatever the bloody hell she was talking about, but Hermione quickly put an end to whatever he was about to say, she did not tolerate being interrupted. And she surely didn't accept a student to just start sprouting out any information they might've learned in their textbooks.

"Mr. Riddle, as interesting as your explanation might've begun to seem, you did not raise your hand. In this classroom there is a hierarchy, I come before all of you, and if you want to speak, you will be addressed first. If you start mouthing off about whatever you learned in the provided textbook, you are not learning. I enjoy having discussions, so although you may be somewhat knowledgeable on the topic Mr. Riddle, I don't quite care to hear your input and would rather give a chance to a student who has not yet spoken in my class. Such as Mr. Patil in the corner, do tell us Raj, what exactly is a Boggart?" Hermione's voice seemed calm and impassive, but the cold harshness behind each word pressed against every nerve inside of Tom's head, making him want to pull out his wand and hex the bloody bitch into a pulp.

"Umm…a boggart, shows a person's greatest fear." Raj Patil answered in a voice that lacked confidence and shook with each syllable. Hermione wanted to roll her eyes, but the boy was a quaking mess, and could go into cardiac arrest if his professor showed any sign of disapproval to whatever he said.

"Correct Mr. Patil, 10 points to Ravenclaw!" Hermione said loudly, her eyes finding those of Tom Riddle as she so, and she could've sworn his eyes flashed red, and he could've sworn her eyes had gone completely black. But this was all based on their perception and they both looked away from one another.

Hermione leaned back against her desk, crossing her ankles together, her eyes searching the classroom for her next victim.

"And what, Mr. Malfoy, is the spell that one would use to get rid of a Boggart?" Hermione smirked as the young Malfoy sat up straighter, his eyes widening in sheer fear and anxiety, and she knew full well that the little shite didn't know what she was even talking about.

"Five points from Slytherin for your lack of attention in my lesson Mr. Malfoy. I don't tolerate disrespect, and I will not have an idiot such as yourself disrupt my class with your sputtering and your inability to ask a simple question. Pay attention, or it'll be detention for 2 weeks, perhaps a little trip to the Forbidden Forest, I heard the Centaurs are looking to make a new friend." Her voice hard, and her eyes turning into slits as the Malfoy boy sunk into his seat, his entire body shaking with every sharp stab her words inflicted on him.

"Sorry Professor" he muttered quietly, but she only snorted, and called on someone else to answer her question.

"You, answer." She spoke loudly, her long, and well-manicured finger pointing towards a girl in the far end of the classroom. The girl sat up straight, and said in a small voice.

"R-ridikulus" she stuttered, and Hermione had to lean forward to catch what the girl said.

"Your name?" she asked in a slow tone, as if mocking the girls intelligence and the girl sat up even straighter.

"Emelia Bolt" and Hermione nodded her head.

"Well done Emelia, 10 points to Ravenclaw, and another 5 points from Slytherin for talking when I am clearly trying to give a lesson, Ms. Parkinson and Ms. Rowle! I did just say that I hated being disrespected. Do you think I'm bloody joking?" she hissed, her eyes flashing that black color once again but she quickly composed herself, before telling the class to split into two groups, one practicing the Patronus while the other practiced fighting off a Boggart, before switching it up every 20 minutes.

"Those of you who will be performing the Patronus charm in this lesson will be required to right a 5-foot parchment of the importance of a Patronus charm, and whether or not a person's qualities or experiences affect the form in which your Patronus takes. I want details and citations from books you have used, I don't want you fully relying on the Defense textbook, although it is informative, it isn't fully detailed like the books you will find specifically on Patronus charms in the library. The parchment is due in the next two lessons, do not disappoint. It contributes greatly to what your exams will be about." And the Patronus group groaned, but nodded their heads as they continued with their activities.

Turning to the group that was dealing with the Boggart, she folded her hands behind her back and looked at each and every one of them as they stood before her, giving her their undivided attention.

"As for this group, I want you to split into groups of three, or two, depending on how many there are of you, I really don't care of the specifics, nor do I care about these partnerships. You will create a presentation about the Boggart, and give a clear presentation to the entire class, and the Headmaster will be in attendance, so do not disappoint me, or make a fool out of me. Practice makes permanent after all." She spoke with a strict tone, her students flinching but nodding nevertheless.

She walked around the classroom for the next 10 minutes, watching as her students worked passionately on their given assignments, worry in their eyes at the idea of disappointing their very terrifying professor.

Hermione watched as each student in the Patronus group, with the exclusion of the Brown girl (of course, _bitch_ ) was able to perform either a corpeal or somewhat of a Patronus charm. She was amazed at the different forms that each Patronus took, but was even more shocked to see that the Patronus of Tom Riddle, was not a snake, but was instead a fox. And it was quite interesting to see how his Patronus truly reflected his nature, conniving and selfish.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a scream from the opposite side of the room, and she quickly whirled around to see a dementor, so similar to the one that attacked Harry during their defense class on Boggarts, and she quickly moved towards the students, pushing aside the student who had this rather strange fear, before casting her own Patronus charm.

The Boggart however shifted before, turning into herself, but with full black eyes, the whites completely gone, wearing a black wrap dress, with her brown hair crackling with magic, and her body covered in black ruins, that were most likely incantations of dark and dangerous magic.

"There is nowhere to hide from me Hermione Granger, for I am within you, I am growing more powerful, I will eat you alive and drink your soul. There is no _escape domina."_ Hissed the Hermione before her, and she found herself entranced, almost reaching forward to touch the dark Hermione but quickly pulled back, muttering Ridikulus and watched as the boggart shifted into a large cotton candy, before she threw it back into the box it was locked in and turning towards her students.

"Class dismissed. Do not forget your assignments." And quickly exited the classroom, missing the eyes of a certain Slytherin, filled with a sort of admiration for the boggart that his professor had, she was afraid of herself, that dark beautiful self of hers, and he was so curious to know who the hell and what the hell Professor Granger was.


	6. Five

**I am glad you all enjoyed the last chapter. As promised, I am trying to fit in this story in between my university courses and assignments and exams, so I hope you all continue to leave your feedback, and I really am so happy you love dark Hermione with an equally dark Tom Riddle as much as I do.**

 **Chapter 5:**

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, and Hermione found that she needed a drink, away from the prowling eyes of students and professors alike. With her black coat wrapped around her slim and lean body, she trudged through the snow, ignoring the eyes of some of her students, and even some of their greetings, she was in no mood to communicate with any sort of life form today, unless they wished to be hexed into the next century.

Her leather boots were getting soaked by the snow, but the heating charm she had cast on herself prior to leaving the castle didn't allow her to feel the cool liquid edging up her stockings and freezing her bloody legs off.

Arriving at the Hogshead, she quickly ordered a Firewhiskey and took a seat at the back of the rather empty pub, where no one would see her, or approach her. Her hood was up, covering her face from any passerby, and her hands were covered in black leather gloves, shielding them from the biting cool air.

Sipping on her drink, her body instantly warmed with the familiar feeling of alcohol entering her system, and sending a buzz throughout her entire bloodstream. She was humming in pleasure at the thought of finally relaxing, however thoughts of the Boggart class, was something that couldn't quite leave her mind.

That Hermione that she saw both confused and intrigued her, and she found that she could not comprehend how someone could be covered in all those runes and not be convulsing on the floor from the sheer power of them. With her hands still wrapped around her drink, she heard the Hogshead door open, and once she saw the rather annoyingly familiar white-blonde hair of a certain Slytherin, she quickly cast a disillusionment charm on herself, and watched as five other Slytherin's joined him. One of them being Tom Riddle, the blighter.

She wanted to get up and follow them, however luck was on her side, and they found themselves a table directly next to hers, obviously their choice of seating in the very back of the pub, one that wasn't popular amongst most students of Hogwarts, was suspicious in itself, but because Hermione knew, oh-so-well, what this meeting was going to probably be about, she couldn't find it in herself to be shocked, and with such a strong disillusionment charm, even the rather intelligent (she says unwillingly and grudgingly) Tom Riddle wouldn't be able to detect her.

"My Lord, I've managed to convince some of the younger Slytherin's, fifth years of your cause, and they seem well-interested in it all. They could be easily manipulated and persuaded to do your bidding." Malfoy began the conversation amongst the six of the snakes seated.

Hermione caught sight of Nott, Mulciber Sr., Avery Sr., and Flint Sr. She almost wanted to snort at the very predictable choice of followers, but kept her snide comments to herself as she continued to observe the group, and the rather malicious and pleased glint that flashed in the obsidian eyes of Riddle.

"Very good Malfoy, excellent in fact. What are their names?" Malfoy was absolutely preening under the praise of his Dark Lord and Hermione wanted to smack the fucking idiot for being so in-love with a manic man.

"I've managed to talk to around four of them so far, Rowle's younger brother, Agnus, and his best friend, that Black boy, Asterion, are very keen on your ideas and are rather willing to do whatever you want them to, however they of course do not know that it is _you,_ per say, they just know that there is a lord that they are intended to follow. I thought that you might personally like to introduce yourself, once they deemed themselves worthy. As for the other two, one would be the rather excitable Estella Travers, and Alec Rosier. All very old, pureblooded family names, and all very excited, especially the Travers girl, she seems extra dangerous." Malfoy gave Riddle the run-down on his assignment and Riddle placed his folded hands on top of the table, leaning forward with a rather wide, but unfriendly smile plastered on his face.

" _Excellent."_ And Hermione swore that she heard a hiss when he said that word, as if he just morphed into that bloody Basilisk he has locked beneath the girl's lavatory.

Malfoy couldn't help but beam as the others informed Riddle of their own assignments, one of which, to her dismay and absolute anger, was to follow her around.

 _Excuse me?_

She was about ready to pull her wand out and slit the spawn of Satan's throat, but held herself back yet again to hear what he had to bloody say about her, and why the fuck he had her followed?

"Mulciber and Avery, you aren't aware of this, since you aren't in defense class with us, but let me tell you of Hermione Granger, and her beautiful Boggart. You should've seen it, that thing came before her like a shadow of death, rising from some grave, covered in such dark runes and it told her that it was within her, which I can only assume means that she has darkness manifesting within her. Could you imagine all the wonderful things we could accomplish with her by our side, covering for us, assisting us, teaching us dark spells, which I am fully aware she probably has memorized and practiced. I want to know who, in the name of Merlin, she is and why she'd shown up out of nowhere, with such a clear dislike towards me." Riddle seems to be spilling his guts, being very unrealistically stupid, how could he not check his surroundings before blurting his confessions!

This isn't the Voldemort she knew, he was still a child, and at times she seemed to forget that. He still had those adolescent tendencies to brag and show off, and be a pain in the arse.

"We have our eyes on her My Lord, however we haven't seen her around Hogsmeade, so I can only assume she's returned to the castle. I don't particularly imagine that she enjoys the cold, or anything that could be remotely nice. She's a raving bitch." Nott spoke, and Hermione's eyes became black with rage, her fingers digging into her palms, drawing blood and her lips curling into a distinct snarl, but they couldn't see her.

She was sure to use Nott as the guinea pig in her next lesson, the little shite thought he could go off talking about her, calling her a bitch, making his friends laugh at his expense. Even Riddle allowed himself to smirk at the rude comment.

They still didn't bloody respect her. She would not tolerate this. She will make them pay, peel the fucking flesh of their bones, and drain them of their magic, she would let them see that Hermione Granger wasn't just some bloody joke. But first, she would terrorize them with her slow and harsh words, make them sit on the edge of their seats.

In fact, she may just start now.

Quietly and discreetly getting out of her seat, she cast a Muffiato around herself, and walked out the door of the Hogshead, behind another man who was exiting, before removing the disillusionment charm and walking back in, making sure to make a grand entrance, by slamming the door behind her, and throwing the hood of her cloak of her head, before shaking that mane of dark caramel curls off her face.

Slowly removing each glove of her hands, she could sense it, even hear how the six boys who were once mocking her on the other side of the pub instantly quieted when they realized that a professor they feared greatly, aside from one slithering snake, had just entered their sacred little meeting place.

Ordering her Firewhiskey, yet again, she grabbed the drink and downed completely before ordering another, and downing that one just as quickly before whirling around in her bar stool and facing the six boys, who were so blatantly staring at her, mouths open, and she could've sworn she saw drool leave the inside of Malfoy's mouth and dribble down his chin.

She gave a small little smirk, before grabbing a third Firewhiskey and making her way towards them.

"Good afternoon gentleman, and what may I ask, are six _fine_ young men, students of Hogwarts more specifically, doing in a place like the Hogshead. I would've assumed you'd be gallivanting into the Three Broomsticks, sharing a butterbeer, exchanging gossip or whatever teenagers do these days." She spoke briskly, taking a large but elegant sip of her Firewhiskey, the alcohol already making her mind fuzzy and her body alight with fire, but she was still coherent enough to make the fuckers shake in their seats.

They all looked at one another, _first mistake,_ that makes them look like they were up to something.

"Hello Professor, we just wanted to get away from the crowds, talk quietly without any distractions or interruptions." Riddle spoke smoothly, his words so stupidly placed, he basically told her that they were talking about something private, something they couldn't discuss in a more social place, _mistake two right there, you toad of a boy._

"Ah, and what might be so important that you couldn't have discussed it in the Three Broomsticks. Unless it's about your assignments for my class, which is due tomorrow, by the way, then I find that there is absolutely nothing else you would be talking about." She had him by the balls, and she could see that his eyes were flaring with unexpressed rage but she couldn't give a flying shit, and knocked back the rest of her drink.

"Either way, I could care less. Get those assignments done boys, and enjoy the rest of your Hogsmeade trip." Before quickly pulling her gloves on, pulling her hood up and spinning around quickly, making them catch a whiff of her perfume and that distinct scent that was so her, and Riddle couldn't help but wonder if that dark Professor Granger with the runes painted and engraved so elegantly on her body was underneath all that clothing, and a small burn of desire flared in his chest, but he quickly put it out.

He wasn't remotely attracted to that bitch of a professor, he couldn't find her charming even if he was whacked on the head repeatedly.

"Let's go, meeting over, same time next week, Room of Requirement." And he, alongside the other five Slytherin's made their way out of the small pub, their heads down and their bodies relaxed as to not draw any attention to them, and Tom Riddle couldn't help but watch the black figure of Hermione Granger trudge up towards the castle, the dark magic around her almost static.


	7. Six

**I have an exam that I am currently studying for tomorrow but decided to just write this chapter instead. PRIORITIES! Hope you enjoy**

 **Chapter 6 (I think):**

Hermione's hands were tapping against the wooden surface of her desk, she was writhing with frustration.

Her encounter with the band of Death Eaters left her highly discomforted and she couldn't find it in herself to not whack each of their skulls against a hard surface until a satisfactory crack was heard, then she would rest easy.

A knock at her door caught her off guard and she felt her hand slip against the desk, almost falling over she quickly stood straight, happy that no one witnessed her almost meeting the floor in a very un-lady like fashion.

"Come in." she announced loudly, her hands coming up to rub her temples, praying to whatever force was up there that the person at the door was _not_ Tom Riddle, or she might just hex herself silly.

Rather than the Slytherin's that she seemed to be seeing much more than any other house in this bloody school, she was instead with a familiar face that her entire body froze as she met hazel eyes that reminded her so much of someone in the past…or future.

"Yes?" she managed to choke out, and the student walked in fully, hands behind his back, eyes crinkling as he grinned at his professor.

"Hello Professor Granger, I stopped by to ask you a question about the assignment you assigned to us in the previous lesson." He was so polite, so kind, her eyes pricked with burning tears and she had to slap herself mentally, there was no emotion in this new and improved harmony, there was no use to feel.

"Of course, Mr. Potter, what can I help you with?" she instead chose to say, her voice regaining some control it lost when Fleamont Potter first entered her quarters. He looked so much like Harry and so much like James Potter that she found herself trying to stay upright, and not hug the young man in front of her.

Harry Potter, regardless of his countless stupid actions and irrationality, was her best friend. She loved him with every fiber in her being, regardless of the dark magic that swirled in her veins, and the darkness that continuously swallowed her on a daily basis. She left him that day, to pursue her own mission, to make the world better for him.

Fleamont Potter had the same messy black hair that all Potter men sported, and he, like every male of the Potter breed, had horrible eyesight and required glasses to see in front of him. He was a charming young man, yet another trait that all Potter descendants carried, and his eyes, although not the same color as Harry's, had a familiarity to them, in the way he regarded her with such kindness and such trust, like she could never hurt anyone and that he would stand by her if she were her friend that his loyalty will never waver, regardless of the situation.

He was Harry but in a different time.

"I just wanted to check with you, if it was alright to mention some personal references to do with the Patronus charm, and not just references from the book." He spoke, his voice warm and deep, and it was so like Harry's that she almost gasped with the rush of memories, but she remained composed.

"That is perfectly fine Mr. Potter, in fact it would be interesting to read some of your own evaluations on the Patronus charm, it isn't always the right thing to just reference a textbook, it doesn't reflect one's experience." She gave him a small smile, she would allow herself this.

"Thank you, professor, I'll make sure to not disappoint." He gave her yet another heart-clenching grin, and she felt sad that Harry would never know his grandfather, like he'll never know his father.

No…that was why she was here, wasn't it? To create a future for Harry and those she cared about that wasn't so tirelessly painful and dark.

"Have a good day Fleamont" she bid him a goodbye, and as the seventh year Gryffindor began to exit his classroom, he turned around and said to her words that burnt themselves into the muscle of her heart.

"You really are an excellent professor, I've learned more with you in our lessons this term than I have with any professor in the last seven years I've spent in Hogwarts." And he chuckled as he said this, like it was so easy to bestow such kind words on such an undeserving person.

"Thank you Fleamont" she allowed herself yet another smile, and couldn't help the blush that rose onto her cheeks, her hands instinctively reaching to press against her warm cheeks, trying to cool them down.

"Of course, Professor, I don't get the feeling that anyone ever acknowledges all that you do." Before he left the class, and she couldn't help the bitter emotion that rose in her chest, _they never do notice all that she does for the fucking wizarding world, they never see her sacrifices._ But Fleamont did, and Harry did and she could bet on her magic and her life that James Potter would've noticed too, it was yet another admirable trait for the Potter men.

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Hermione's class with the Slytherin's and Ravenclaws today was enjoyable to say the least. Her mood had somewhat lightened since her encounter with Fleamont Potter, but it was no surprise that only someone from the Potter elk could somehow lift her mood from the dump it was resting in since her arrival in this time period.

However, her mood was increasingly better after she performed various practice spells on a certain Theodore Nott, as promised to herself from her last encounter with the belligerent and foul boy.

The class began with her announcing that today she would like to introduce the class to the Unforgivable curses, however rather than outright screaming a Crucio in the direction of the filthy group of Slytherin's, she instead pulled herself together, like she always did, and began with a discussion on the three well-known curses.

She asked various questions and was happy to know that the class wasn't completely useless, and had a basic knowledge on the curses and what they did, but never have they been witness to the powerful curses, of course excluding Tom Fucking Riddle and his group of idiots, but she was happy to see the faces of her student's pale when she said she would like to show them the power of one of the courses.

Although she could at times be heartless, and even possibly aggressive towards her students, she knew well enough that cursing them with the torture curse, and performing the Killing curse is against school policy, in fact all three curses were prohibited on school grounds, but it was important for the students to know what could happen to them in battle, or even in the safety of their own homes.

"I will, of course, not inflict any pain on any of my students, unless it is hurtling a book at your heads for not paying attention, or giving you a rather horrifying detention, but never torture. I am not _that_ cruel. However, the Imperius, although not painful, is still very dangerous and a perfect example of how a dark witch or wizard can use it against you." She had her hands folded in front of her, her eyes flitting from one students face to another, gauging their reactions with a pleased smirk as each one gulped visibly, in fear of being chosen to be the class example.

However, Hermione knew perfectly well who she would be choosing, her mind didn't falter once when her finger pointed in the direction of Theodore Nott, and she saw him quiver, actually _quiver,_ in his seat.

He'll soon learn that calling her a raving bitch would only result in his harm, words meant nothing to her after being called a 'mudblood' consistently throughout her entire Hogwarts career.

"M..me?" the boy stuttered, and she rolled her eyes.

"Yes Mr. Nott, do I seem to be pointing at someone else? The Imperius will cause you know harm unless the castor wills it to, so please, stop wasting my stand and come stand by me so that I could give the class a good example, and maybe humor them, and myself a bit." A wicked smirk painted her lips and she felt so gleeful at the way the rude boy was now shaking in his own robes, fearful of what she capable of. She hoped that this reaction to her would remain this way, especially from those Slytherin's and their righteousness.

Getting up from his seat, Nott came to stand by her, hands tucked behind his back, but she could clearly see him tugging on his robes and twisting his fingers repeatedly.

"Oh _relax_ Mr. Nott, I won't hurt you…too much." Before she lifted her wand, and with a practiced and strong voice, she hissed, _Imperio_ and watched as the look on Nott's face eased completely, all emotion disappearing and his eyes become glazed with lack of any brain activity of his own.

"Now Mr. Nott, I want you to…give us a little dance." And the class began to giggle as the large and brute boy began to jump around and perform pirouettes around the classroom, even his own mates seemed amused.

"I want you to sing for us Mr. Nott, a nice performance by the very lovely Celestina Warbeck!" and the class now had no qualms as they roared with laughter at the expense of the fucker, as he sang in an off-tune, tone-deaf and utterly ear-bleeding voice the infamous song by Celestina Warbeck, "Love Potion".

"And now Mr. Nott, I want you to apologize to me… for calling me a _raving bitch."_ She spat out in a voice that was dark, and venomous and that had stopped the class from shaking with laughter. She distinctly heard the crack of Tom Riddle's neck as his head snapped up in their direction, eyes widening than turning into slits, a sneer almost fully making its way to his lips, as he realized that the stupid bint was making a fool of one of his henchmen _on purpose._ She was openly defying the Dark Lord, and the bitch, he wasn't even sure but he could sense it, she fucking knew it.

"I apologize for calling you a raving bitch." Nott said loudly, his voice clear and bouncing off the walls of the silent room.

This was the end of her little show as she released him from the spell and watched as he stumbled forward, shaking his head, as if trying to remember what he had done prior to standing beside her before the class, prior to the spell.

But she could see the clenched fists of Riddle, and she could see his eyes flashing red, and this time she was surely not mistaken of the color bleeding into his irises. But she held no fear when it came to him, she witnessed him rise to power, torture and kill muggleborns, half-bloods and purebloods alike, without his charming good looks, and his teenage hormones to hold him back.

This to her, was nothing. He was a boy, and yes he could possibly kill her or torture her until she was bleeding on the ground before him, begging for mercy, but she was more powerful than him in this time, she was stronger and she had seen and fought more. He was still sheltered by the walls of Hogwarts, regardless of his lack of parents and affection, he was still somewhat spoilt with his ability to be a teenager and not worry about fighting a dark wizard.

He took away her childhood, and she would never forgive him for that. But more importantly, he stripped harry of every single thing he loved because the boy that sat before her was jealous of any person who had loved at all, and he would never love and never feel the loss for anyone and she couldn't bring herself to pity him. He was an arse, and a disappointment and shame of a man and wizard.

She will not allow him to rise the way he did, and at times the darkness within her clenched itself in desire at the feeling of his magic rubbing against hers when they were in close proximity, but the rational part of her mind stopped her from leaning forward, stopped her from showing him that in some sense he had a small hold on her, but she was stronger, _she needed to remind herself that._

"Class dismissed." She muttered, and walked out of the classroom before her students, heading towards the Room of Requirement for a drink and a nice long bath, with thoughts of Tom Riddle and Fleamont Potter circling in her mind.


	8. Seven

**Hope you enjoy this chapter! Love hearing your feedback, and if you have any recommendations of what you would like to see in this story, please leave a comment and I will try to incorporate as many suggestions as possible**

 **Thank you again for your constant support!  
**

 **Chapter 7:**

Hermione was almost entirely sure that Tom Riddle was beyond pissed at her for the stunt she pulled during her last class. She openly declared war against the young Dark Lord, and she could give less of shit about it all.

He was like a whiny little baby, always annoyed and aggravated if things didn't go his way. She found it humorous that she was ever afraid of him in her own time, because he was seriously just so _annoying._ She wanted to slap him half the time, and strangle him the other half.

Dippet informed her that one of the head students is out sick and requested if she could take over their patrols, not that she had anything better to do, but couldn't a student do this instead? Professors do have work to do, grades to give, and assignments to destroy their students with.

However, denying the headmaster of his simple request would just get her on his bad side, and if there was one thing Hermione needed, was Dippet to love her more than he loved Tom Riddle, because the little shit had every professor in the palms of his hands.

Rounding a corner, she was pretty sure that students in this time weren't as adventurous as those of her time, who loved to sneak out and shove their tongues down each other's throats. She hadn't had a good shag since leaving her old life behind, and was sure to get that small problem fixed this coming weekend, however for now she would just make sure that the boys kept to themselves and the girls had a skirt that wasn't on the verge of exposing their panty colors.

Distinct voices had pulled her from her thoughts, and she found herself pressing her body against the wall that was rounding into another hallway, before quickly casting a disillusionment charm on herself, her invisible head comfortable peeking over at the two students who were clearly arguing.

"Fleamont, you have to understand! My father will never approve, a Black and a Potter is something unheard of!" Hermione could see a beautiful young woman, who she knew was in Slytherin, as she taught her Defense, but she couldn't seem to recall her name since the girl was almost always quiet in her classes, but outstandingly smart.

"Doe…please. Our families shouldn't matter! All that should matter is you and me, right?" and Fleamont Potter grabbed the girl's hands, pulling her closer.

"You're crazy if you think that my father would ever allow this. Potter's are blood traitors, Fleamont. Blacks are fucking pureblood fanatics." The girl seemed to be pushing him away, but he only pulled her close.

"But I love you, and I think that's enough. And you love me, don't you?" His eyes and voice seemed to be desperate, as if her rejection could kill him. The girl let out a sigh of resignation.

"I love you, I do. Too much that it hurts at times, and it'll have my parents disown me of everything. You know…I do believe I love you more than I'll ever love my own parents and siblings." She whispered, their foreheads now resting against one another, and Hermione couldn't find it in herself to break up the warm and loving moment, she'd let this slide, because she knew that those two standing there together were going to be the parents of James Potter, and without him, her best friend would not exist.

"I'll always protect you Dorea, the world could never hurt you if you were with me." And he placed a soft kiss on her lips which ended fairly quickly, and the two-walked hand in hand to wherever they were going. Hermione's heart melted at the sight, Harry did tell her that Sirius constantly mentioned how in love the two were, and how the love had only grown once they had James.

Once they were out ear shot and she could no longer see them, she quickly removed the disillusionment charm, and continued her rounds, before heading back to her quarters, her exhaustion taking over quickly and her eyes drooping until she was sound asleep.

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The next day, Hermione awoke with her door being knocked on violently. She was confused as to who the hell would even attempt to wake her up so early in the morning. Looking out her window, she could see that the sun had not risen yet, and that it could only be around four o'clock in the morning. Oh, someone was going to be skinned alive for this.

Climbing out of her bed, she realized that she was merely in her bra and knickers, but in no mood to dress, she quickly tied a black satin robe around her waist, her hair piled atop her head, and opened the door, her wand clutched in her hand.

She came face to face with Tom Riddle. For bloody fuck sake! He couldn't wait for tomorrow to enact his revenge. The little shite had a pissed off look on his face, and was dressed in his pajamas as well. What the fuck is he even doing up at this time? Merlin, he is so annoying.

"Professor Granger, I would like to have a word with you." In no mood to argue, she allowed him into her quarters, shutting the door, and casting protective spells silently around every inch of her bedroom.

"Your little stunt that you pulled in that defense class was unacceptable Professor. You've disrespected my…friend." He was literally hissing, and Hermione held the urge to roll her eyes at the insipid child that was Tom Riddle.

However, he was coming closer to her, until she was cornered and pushed up against the wall on the other side of her rather large bedroom.

"Goodness Mr. Riddle, I honestly didn't take you for one who gave a bloody shit about his friends. But this, _this_ is so shocking. Truly, my mind is blown!" her voice low, and sarcastic and injected with a danger that he knew she would stand by if he attempted to cause her harm.

Tom could tell that her eyes were darkening into an all-black shade, so much like her Boggart, and for some fucking reason his pants were tightening painfully and it was clearly because of the bulge that was formed as he could now see almost a clear view of her breasts cupped nicely in a lace black bra.

Hermione's eyes followed his, and with him pressed up fully against her now, where it was once intimidating had now fallen into a different light…the fucker was seducing her, and in her mind, the little voice that constantly made her fall into a never-ending darkness was thriving off of his desire and was sending desire of its own pulsating through Hermione's veins.

"Professor, I care about my friends, don't judge me based off of some strange misconception you've made about me from the beginning of the year. I am an extremely loyal friend if necessary." And Hermione snorted, and rather than hexing her, Tom Riddle did the unthinkable.

He pressed his lips against hers harshly, almost bruising her. And the most shocking thing of this entire night, was that she kissed him back, tongues battling, hands roaming each other's body's, and soon her robe was pulled open, but once the cool air had hit her torso and she felt his lips trail kissed along the top of her breasts that were pushed up by the bra, Hermione's mind caught up with her and she wrenched away from him violently, closing her robe instantly and grabbing her wand, pressing it against his neck.

"Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, you absolute swine!" Hermione felt the rage replace the desire at her loss of control. And she sent a small stinging hex which made him release a growl of discomfort, which sent shockwaves of desire through her lower abdomen area. For Merlin sake, _what is happening to her!_

Tom could still sense the discomfort in his pants, but the bitch had hexed him and he knew that whatever could've happened, is no longer in the agenda of tonight's plans, and so he grabbed her wand, bid her a goodnight and walked out of her room, both of them not speaking, but her magic rubbed against his at one point in that kiss, and he would be lying if he didn't say that it was doused in such dark magic that it made him feel like he was flying. Tom was pretty adamant that this witch was not older than him by much, professor or not, he wanted to know the hell she was. _Now._


End file.
